“Have you got everything from your boat?” the man asked, looking down at the smoking airboat. He did a sudden double take as he saw Fang’s body. “God’s balls! What happened to him? Where’s his head?”

Chase flopped into a seat. “In the river, on the propeller, on my jacket…”

The South African looked shocked. “This was no boating accident! What’s going on?” He fell silent when Nina pointed her gun at him. The pilot looked around, eyes bulging in surprise.

“I’m sorry to have to do this,” she said, “but I’ve had a really shitty day-several days, in fact-and I need you to take us to…what was the name of that village?”

“Nagembe,” Chase answered.

“What he said. I know it’s not far, so if you could just take us there as fast as possible, I’d be very grateful. How about it?”

Hands half-raised, the South African nervously backed up and sat in the empty copilot’s seat. “I think we can manage that for you, miss. Can’t we, Ted?” The pilot nodded repeatedly in confirmation.

“Great.” Nina sat in the chair next to the survey equipment, noticing something in a tray on the desk. “Eddie, here,” she said, tossing him a phone. “Call TD, get her to meet us when we arrive. How long will it take to reach the village?” she asked as Chase started to dial.

“About thirty minutes,” the South African told her. He paused, then gave her an incredulous look. “Are you really hijacking a zeppelin?”

Nina managed a tired grin as the engine noise increased, the airship rising and turning north. “You know what’s weird? That’s not even the craziest thing I’ve done today.”

“That’s one hell of a story,” said TD.

Chase stretched his neck, working out a crick. “Tell me about it.”

TD had hurriedly taken off from the airfield shortly after Yuen’s jet departed; the sight of one of the mine’s massive trucks smashing through the fence and heading off across the desert with tanks in hot pursuit had been something that, as she put it, had Eddie Chase written all over it. Still airborne when she got Chase’s call, she changed course for the airstrip at Nagembe and arrived a few minutes before the airship. At the prompting of Nina’s gun, the pilot brought the zeppelin down next to the Piper. A quick hobble between the two aircraft saw Nina and Chase aboard TD’s plane in time for a rapid takeoff, watched by a group of surprised locals who had come to find out why a gleaming airship had made an unscheduled stop at their little village.

Now they were across the border in Namibia, sitting in a darkened room in an abandoned bush farmhouse. As TD gave Nina and Chase first aid, including stitching up the wound in Chase’s leg, they told her about the afternoon’s events. “I knew political assassinations weren’t your style, Eddie,” TD said with relief.

“But how are we going to prove it?” Nina wondered miserably.

“That’s not your biggest worry just now,” said TD. “It won’t take long for the story to get out of Botswana and into its neighbors. A lot of people will be looking for you-you need to get out of here before that happens. And I don’t just mean out of Namibia. I mean out of Africa.”

Nina ran her hands back through her disheveled hair. “How are we going to do that? We’ve got no passports, no money-and we’re wanted for the murder of a senior government official! There’ll be pictures of us at every airport on the continent!”

Chase looked thoughtful, but also somewhat troubled. “I might be able to sort something out… but it’ll mean calling in a big favor.” He frowned. “Maybe too big. Mac probably won’t go for it.”

“Mac?” asked TD, surprised. “You want to ask Mac for a favor?” A sly smile crept onto her face. “In that case, I might be able to help. He was down here on business last year, and now he owes me a favor. Well, several favors.”

“Who’s Mac?” Nina wanted to know.

“Old friend,” Chase said, giving TD a suspicious look. “Why does Mac owe you a favor?”

“Several favors.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Chase was appalled. “He’s twice your age!”

“He has lots of experience,” TD countered.

“He’s only got one leg!”

“Which opens up all kinds of new poss-”

He threw up his hands in horror. “Don’t! Don’t say another bloody word!”

“Possibilities,” TD finished with a toothy grin.

Chase made a pained face. “Oh, why’d you have to tell me that? You and Mac? Eehew!” He shuddered.

TD folded her arms and pouted. “Do you want me to help or not?”

“Yes, very much,” Nina cut in before Chase could reply. “Who’s Mac?”

“He’s somebody who can get you and Eddie to England,” TD told her. “It might take a day or so, but he has the connections to arrange travel for people even without passports.”

“How?”

“Mac’s got friends in high places,” said Chase. “Or low places. Depends how you look at it.”

“Either way, I’m sure he’ll help you,” TD said. She smiled at Chase as she took out her phone. “Do you want to talk to him, or shall I?”

“You have a word,” Chase said. He put a hand to his forehead and sighed. “Or several.”

Look who it is,” said the bearded Scotsman in a soft burr, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Eddie Chase, international assassin.”

Chase smiled humorlessly. “Mac, I’m grateful for your help and everything, but seriously-sod off.”

“Good to see you again too.” He grinned, opening the door wider to admit Chase and Nina to the hall of the terraced Victorian town house. “And you must be Dr. Wilde. Welcome to London-my name’s Jim. But my friends call me Mac.” He shook Nina’s hand.

“Call me Nina. Glad to meet you,” she said. Mac was, she guessed, about sixty, six feet tall with bristling gray hair. Despite his age, he was still craggily handsome and in good physical shape. After Chase’s comment in Namibia she couldn’t help glancing down at his legs, but was unable to tell which one was artificial. “How do you know Eddie?”

Mac arched an eyebrow. “He didn’t tell you?”

“He’s very secretive about his past,” she said acidly.

He closed the door behind them, and Nina took a moment to look around. The hall was actually more of an atrium, two floors of balcony landings running around it above them, topped by a pair of beautiful old stained-glass skylights. Like its owner, the house had a crisp, spartan air, the few examples of ornamentation she could see clearly valuable antiques.

Mac ushered them into an adjoining living room. “I used to be Eddie’s commanding officer,” he explained. “Colonel Jim McCrimmon of Her Majesty’s Special Air Service. Retired now, of course. But I still work as a consultant for… certain agencies.”

“He means MI6,” Chase said with a disapproving sneer. “Bunch of tossers.”

Mac chuckled. “Eddie has a very low opinion of the Secret Intelligence Service, I’m afraid. But they’re not all bad-by spook standards, at least. You wouldn’t be here now if some of them hadn’t arranged a black bag flight to get you out of Namibia. Please, take a seat.”

Although there was a sofa in the room, Nina and Chase sat on separate armchairs. Mac noted this with a twitch of his eyebrow, but didn’t comment. “So,” he began, voice becoming more serious, “you both made it in one piece, more or less. Now, perhaps you care to explain why I just pulled an awful lot of strings to get you here?”

Chase did most of the talking, Nina occasionally chipping in to add information, or to correct him. The presence of his former commander seemed to temper his responses to her, though they still had a distinct sarcastic edge. It took some time for the full story to be explained, and when it was, Mac leaned back in his chair with an expression of concern.

“So, this man Yuen has a secret uranium mine…” he rumbled, steepling his fingers.